When Worlds Change
by Bluestarisawesome
Summary: What if the troubled alcoholic victor known as Haymitch Abernathy never was? What Haymitch was the one who was from the shining Capitol? (AU?)
1. Author's Note

**A/N: I have this idea. What if Haymitch Abernathy, the troubled, alcoholic victor of district twelve never was? What if Haymitch was the one who lived in and admired the Capitol all his life? What if Effie was the troubled, alcoholic victor of district twelve? This story will begin right when Effie and Haymitch meet, about 15 years after the 50****th**** games, so that would make these the 65****th**** games. Our beloved Finnick Odair from district four won these games at the young age of 14. Let's see, I think Effie would be 31 is she won at the age of 16, and Haymitch would be 22 if he was 7 at the time of the 50****th**** games. (I assume that Effie was very young when Haymitch won in the real book, and so you know they are just trading places here. At the time of the 74****th**** games, Haymitch would be 40, and Effie would be 31. Haymitch was said to be middle-aged, and Effie's age was not revealed, so I made it up completely.) There's my idea. No, this will not be the same exact story only backwards. I will give them each a sort of new personality. I am debating whether or not to make Haymitch gay. (What? I ship them in every story. Why not ****_not_**** ship them for once?) If this is a good idea, say so. If it's dumb, say so. Review, guys! **


	2. The Encounter

The air in district twelve is thick with fog. Visibility is poor, and I worry that the train could crash. I peek out of the window, and see that we are about 300 yards from the station. The ride was exhausting, and I'm sure that meeting the victors will be as well. _Victor._ I remind myself. The older one passed away last year on the eve of the reaping. Liza, the old escort for twelve, didn't tell me his name and I didn't bother to ask. She told me that Euphemia, the only living victor, is a hopeless alcoholic and is very shy. I should be surprised if she even opens the door.

The train screeches to a complete stop, and I stand up and begin walking toward the door. I adjust my tie, and smooth my hair down with what little saliva I have in my mouth. What better day to begin escorting the tributes of district twelve than the reaping. I have had nightmares about this day since my acceptance letter came in the mail. Everything from mispronunciation of a difficult name, to a rainstorm ruining my suit and make-up has intruded my intricate dream world.

I exit the train, and stare at the hopeless wasteland. If only there was an opening for district one. There district is so much more well maintained, and even smells better. I take a few steps in the direction of Victor's Village. I see a sign that reads "Mellarks' Bakery" up ahead, and I decide to stop in. I know that nothing can compare to the rich Capitol fare that I enjoy regularly, but I haven't eaten since breakfast. I walk into the open door, and see a clean counter, and the smell of bread overwhelms my nostrils. I see a young boy in the back accompanied by his older brother removing a fresh loaf of bread from the oven.

The oldest of the three meets my eyes, and walks up to the counter.

"Afternoon. How may we serve you?" He looks shocked.

"Do you have cheese buns here?" I ask. The youngest boy's expression brightens.

"Yes we do. I'll have Peeta make them for you. It will be a few minutes if you don't mind." The boy smiles. I take a seat in a bench to my immediate right. I hear someone coming downstairs in a rush. I see that it is a woman in her mid-forties. If she smiled, her face might crack. She shoots a look in my direction of pure distrust and hate.

"Who the hell are you? Might you be the new escort?" She asks. I am taken aback by her tone, but I swallow all my comebacks.

"Yes. I am Haymitch Abernathy. Your district is lovely," I respond.

"Yeah, okay. Are you gonna bring one home alive this year?" She mutters. I weigh my options, and decide not to respond. Her question seemed rhetorical. Instead, I lean back in the bench, and the youngest boy called Peeta returns with a paper bag.

"Your buns," He says simply. It is now that I notice the angry red mark across his icy blue eye. Someone hit him. I thank him, and exit the small shop.

**A/N: Alright. I wanted this encounter with Peeta to happen because I adore him. Assuming him and Katniss are the same age at the time of the 74****th**** games that would make him 7 years old. Katniss too. I don't think there is room for her in this story just yet, but I think I may be able to mention the mine explosion and squeeze her in somewhere depending on how long this story gets to be. Haymitch will meet Effie after he finishes his buns, aka the next chapter. I will update as soon as I can, and the next chapter will hopefully be a lot longer. Don't forget to review. :) **


	3. The Reaping

The gates of Victors Village creak open as I make my way inside. Euphemia's house is the first one on the right side of the cobblestone path. I walk to the front door, and knock softly. I hear someone run through the house, but then all is quiet.

"Euphemia?" I ask. "I am the new escort. I thought I would introduce myself. The reaping is at two. You should consider readying yourself."

The door opens swiftly, and standing in front of me is a very frail woman who hasn't eaten anything. I don't understand why. The Capitol's generosity has certainly given her enough money to buy food. What little clothing she wears is torn and clings to her small frame. She leans on the doorframe to support herself, and I see several bottles of cheap wine scattered across the floor.

"What do you want?"

"I'm the new escort," I repeat.

"I know that," She murmurs. She seems confused.

"Well, my name is Haymitch Abernathy. I should leave you alone," I decide.

"Call me Effie. I'll call you Mitchy," She giggles, and pokes my chest with her index finger.

"Uh, alright. Sure. Goodbye, Effie. I'll see you at two," I say. She walks away, leaving the door wide open.

"I'll close the door for you on my way out," I call.

"Whatever."

Her childlike behavior, her confusion, her indifference and anger all within the same moment reveals just how much alcohol she has consumed. I hope she drinks a few cups of coffee before the reaping. The district is embarrassing enough without the help of a half naked, drunk victor.

Shaken, I stagger away from the house. Liza warned me that Effie was nothing short of ill-mannered, but I expected something different completely. She was a little shy. She even seemed intimidated when she saw me for the first time. I've been told I have a stocky build, and even scowl when something unexpected happens. I have tried to have a softer look on my face, but Effie's behavior was so… Surprising.

My pace quickens, and I no longer feel safe. What if everyone in the district is an alcoholic? Oh, no. People here can't afford alcohol. They are probably confused and angry in consciousness.

The square is being hosed off and prepped for the beginning of the Hunger Games. I can't help but notice how much dirt and filth has accumulated. I bet they only clean this place when the reaping rolls around. I can't say much about the Victory Tours since I myself focus more on the victor's speech, and not the location.

I look at my watch, and it reads 1:50. Family after family creeps out of their small living spaces, and trudge into the square. I take a seat in a chair set aside for myself. No one seems excited about today, and I don't understand why. The games are all the rage in the Capitol. It is the only thing we look forward to other than the victory tours. Any one of these young men and women can become a victor and enjoy the Capitol's riches and generosity, and yet I see only grave faces here in the audience. It's sickening. This district is full of ungrateful brats.

_Smile, and be positive Haymitch._ I remind myself harshly. Nobody likes a grumpy escort. The mayor takes his place behind the podium and begins reading the Treaty of Treason, to serve as reminders as to why all these people are here today. Effie is seated next to me in as little clothing as she can get away with. Her dress reveals her legs, and entirely too much cleavage. Her hair is knotted and she doesn't seem to understand where she is. She looks at me, and realization creeps across her face.

The mayor finishes speaking, and I take my place at the podium. I struggle to remember what all I am required to say. _Liza always improvised. _I remember.

"Welcome! We are here today to select a young man and woman for the prestigious honor of representing District Twelve in the sixty-fifth Hunger Games!" I begin. I hear some sarcastic applause coming from the edges of the audience. How very rude. I walk over to the large glass bowl on my left, and grab the fist name my hands touch. I clear my throat, and read, "Angelique Baldwin" into the microphone. I see a blonde headed girl with striking blue eyes walk down the aisle. I hear a muffled cry that came from the eighteen year old girls section; most presumably, the thirteen year old girl's sister. I am certain she would volunteer, but wouldn't want to steal all the fame.

The small girl joins me on stage, and is shaking violently. She acts as if she is walking to her death.

"And now your male tribute," I say. I walk over to the glass ball on my right, and choose a name from the very top of the pile. I open the folded piece of paper careful not to tear it, and written in pristine handwriting is the name Hickory Phillips. I read the name into the microphone, and a muscular, unshaven young man rises out of the eighteen year old section. He seems much more confident, unless his furrowed brow and posture do not reflect his true feelings. I ask for volunteers, but only the wind has anything to say.

"Alright you two. Shake hands. Get acquainted," I smile. The young man seems to only intimidate the young girl even more. I sigh, and focus back on the population of district twelve.

"Your tributes. Let's give them a big round of applause," I advise. I begin clapping, and am joined by a few. I disregard all the looks of hostility and regret; nothing can ruin this day for me.

**A/N: So, this wrapped up around 970 words, not including the Author's Note. What do you all think so far? Was this worth the wait? I tried to incorporate a new personality for Haymitch, but there is only so much I can do. To me, all the people of the Capitol are the same. Except for Plutarch. Oh my god, in the movie when he was talking to Snow, I overheard some "movie fangirls" (The ones who only watch the movies and don't read the books) saying "Omg, don't hurt Katniss!" and I was thinking, "Plutarch, you sexy devil." Anyway, remember to review. What did you like? What did you dislike? Stay tuned for more. Don't expect fast updates. I have a life outside fanfiction. Oh, and I'm pretty notorious for never finishing anything. If I finish this fanfiction, you should feel very special, because you motivated me. **


	4. The Train Ride

After the tributes say their goodbyes, I escort them to the train. The girl and young man seem equally amazed by the high speed vehicle. I suppose the coal trains do not reach top speeds of 200 miles per hour.

The boy and girl sit at a table with fruit and a pot of chocolate. Effie disappears into the bar, and soon returns with a bottle of white wine, and a glass. The girl tribute looks at the pot of chocolate, and puts her hand in it. Disgusted, I give her a terrible look. She makes eye contact as she licks off the chocolate, but still doesn't seem to think she has done anything wrong. The boy has helped himself to the strawberries, eating one after the other.

"The strawberries are meant to be eaten with the chocolate. They taste better that way," I point out. The girl's eyes light up and she takes the platter of strawberries away from the boy and dumps them all into the large pot of chocolate. She then reaches in, and removes all of them with her bare hands. Her hands and wrists are covered in chocolate, but not for long. What didn't end up on the carpet and on the table cloth gets into her mouth. Effie says nothing, and almost looks pleased.

"Let them enjoy. Let's be honest. They are going to die, and they know it," She says. The young girl doesn't look horrified. Instead, she looks content with the confirmation of her future. The boy does not argue.

"That's right. She's right," He murmurs. "Is there white liquor on this train?"

Effie looks surprised, but eventually answers his question.

"That's much too strong for you. It's poison. Have a beer or some red wine," She advises.

"I've had a drink before, you know," He admits.

"Oh, well in that case, pour yourself some whiskey and have the bartender make the girl something fruity."

"No, I couldn't," The girl says.

"You'll change your mind," Effie says. The boy walks in the direction of the bar, and Effie refills her glass of wine for the second time.

"What?" She asks.

"Clearly my facial expressions didn't give you enough hints at my disapproval. The very least you could do is stay sober to be a good mentor for these kids. They are at a disadvantage coming from an outlying district and you are drunk already, and you just told the boy to pour himself some whiskey. The girl had enough sense to refuse, thank Panem," I say. Effie seemed to have stopped listening, but I couldn't care less. The girl doesn't like being talked about as if she weren't here.

"My name is Angelique. You should know; you called my name less than an hour ago," She mutters.

I feel like apologies are needed, but when my lips part, Effie shakes her head no.

**A/N: That was very short. About 500 words or less. I am sorry, but I feel like this is a decent ending. There will be more on the train ride in the next chapter, so don't worry. That's all I have to say. Review, review, review. Oh yeah, and review. **


	5. The Kiss

Later that night, I overhear a conversation between Hickory and Effie and can't help but eavesdrop. I press my ear up against the door, and listen to the masculine and feminine voices alternate.

"What should I do?" Hickory asks. Effie sighs deeply, and I assume she paused for a sip of her drink.

"How long have you been in the mines, son?" She asks.

"I turned eighteen about seven months ago."

"You have a talent for any weapons? Knives, bows, whatever else?"

"Well, I'm good with knives. I've tried my hand at a bow, but it's just not my thing. I'll use one if I have to," He says.

"If there is one," Effie corrects. "Which brings me to the next subject. Stay away from the cornucopia."

"But, I'm sure I can fight the other tributes," Hickory says.

"Not the careers. I don't care how strong you are. They train them in special academies until they're 18. Then they volunteer. For them it's a shot at fame and fortune," She explains. I think I should intervene, and inform Hickory that they receive no special treatment when it all comes down to it, but I remember that I was not invited.

"Fine. No cornucopia. How the hell do I win if I can't get any supplies?" Hickory asks. Effie laughs so loud I'm sure the Capitol can hear her.

"You won't win unless you're good. And then you still never really win," She chuckles. "But never mind me. All you need to worry about is staying alive. Find shelter, wherever that may be, and then go from there. Get water first. Don't light fires at night."

"Okay." Hickory says. Then I see something I'm not sure is really happening. Through the crack in the door, I see Hickory kiss Effie on the lips. Passionately. This was not a gesture of friendship. The boy must have had a few shots to be able to find her of all people attractive. I decide now is the time to call them both for dinner.

I knock on the door, and they break up. Hickory looks shocked; at himself for kissing a woman who could easily be his mother, or at Effie for returning his kiss rather than pushing him away I will never know.

The door opens, and Effie and I are face to face.

"Dinner is in a few minutes. Make yourself as presentable as you can manage," I say.

"Yes, of course," She smiles. Hickory squeezes through the door just before she closes it.

"I'll tell Angelique to save you the trouble, Haymitch," He mutters.

"Thank you," is all I can think to say.

On my way down the hallway, I hear three doors open one after the other. I am seated at the table when they all join me. Angelique sits beside Hickory and Effie finds herself next to me. We all avoid eye contact. An avox with jet black hair and purple highlights brings us each a bowl beef stew in a thick gravy poured over rice. Buttered dinner rolls come next, and I eat two. The tributes help themselves to a dozen each, dipping them in their stew and slurping it when they run out of rolls to sop up the gravy. Effie at least uses a spoon about half the time.

For dessert, a rich chocolate cake is wheeled out of the kitchen. Angelique takes two large slices, and Hickory settles for one. Effie takes a tiny wedge and I take an average sized piece. Angelique and Hickory wolf down their cake, Effie eats the frosting, and I finish half, still full from the stew and rolls. Hickory leans back in his chair and belches loudly.

"Sorry. Had to make some room," He says when I look at him with impatience.

"By the end of the night you'll have all the room you need. There's no way you can keep that all down," Effie warns him.

"That isn't an appropriate subject for the dinner table," I inform Effie. She shrugs. Angelique and Hickory leave the table together.

"We'll be in the Capitol early tomorrow morning. Be prepared," I call after them.

**A/N: There. Just as I promised, more on the train ride. And, another promise, completely my story. About the kiss: what did you think about it? Too much too soon? I did it for no reason at all. Seemingly. Review, guys. **


End file.
